


Bedroom Picnic

by treacherousdoctors



Category: Heartstopper (Webcomic), Solitaire - Alice Oseman
Genre: Comfort, Domestic Boyfriends, Eating Disorders, How Do I Tag, M/M, Picnics, sort of a vent fic?, this is just a cute narlie date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25350382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treacherousdoctors/pseuds/treacherousdoctors
Summary: With the new school term fast approaching, Nick and Charlie take an evening to themselves.{trigger warnings: eating disorders, food, calorie mentions, hospital mention}
Relationships: Nicholas "Nick" Nelson/Charles "Charlie" Spring
Comments: 17
Kudos: 96





	Bedroom Picnic

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing i've written for any of the osemanverse characters, and a lot of it is vaguely nonsensical 4am rambling/venting because food has been... Difficult recently and i'm using charlie as a coping strategy. i don't think this is particularly ooc for either of the boys, but if it is i'm sorry
> 
> this fic does deal quite a lot with charlie's ed, but it's not angsty and i try to stay pretty positive without trivialising the issue. it talks a lot about food, and theres references to calories & brief references to charlie's hospitalisation (very very brief). if these are issues that affect you, please be careful reading. (note: it references charlie's ocd, but as i don't have ocd i didn't talk about that too much because i don't feel i could do it justice)
> 
> timeline wise, this is post-heartstopper but pre-solitaire
> 
> sorry for any weird formatting, i typed this on my phone

The date had been Charlie's idea. He'd been planning it for weeks - and, in true Charlie fashion, apologising every day for how long it took. He first broached the subject on boxing day, a tentative whisper of  _ "can we have a picnic?"  _ as they walked Nellie through isolated snow-laden streets. It's now a week into January, the final Saturday before school goes back, and the two of them are in Nick's bedroom, with Sarah having not-so-subtly agreed to go out for the evening. 

Yet more snow is falling outside, with the sky pitch black despite it only being around 5pm. The space is lit only by his fairy lights and the moonlight that creeps in through the skylight. The twinkling orange glow of the lights is bouncing off Charlie's irises, and it strikes Nick once again quite how in love he is with the boy before him.

Their food is laid out in front of them in meticulous order, arranged just the way Charlie likes it. Neither one of them has taken a bite yet.

Nick thinks, passively, of what Charlie's therapists have said - about how you need to be forceful, even cruel, need to stop him from trying to derive order from every little thing. He thinks of how they (meaning himself and the Spring family) have been advised to never let Charlie control everything quite so precisely, at risk of enabling his OCD and letting him get bad again. Part of Nick feels he should mess up the pile just a little, but it seems  _ too  _ unfair. He's pretty sure that advice should only stand when Charlie is mid-breakdown, when he's fixated on his patterns and control because he thinks it will fix immediate chaos - this isn't like that. This is all casual, a well-thought-out plan to  _ stop  _ him from becoming overwhelmed. If this over-the-top neatness is what it will take for Charlie to eat every bite, surely that's enough?

Charlie is the first to pick something up. This is only unexpected to a certain degree - over the last few months, Nick has perfected the art of matching pace with his boyfriend. He doesn't start eating until Charlie has, and he doesn't take the final bite until Charlie has. He does this methodically, carefully, making encouraging conversation so it doesn't come across like he's pandering or pitying. Lately it's been working pretty well. Seeing what Charlie has grabbed - a fun-size pack of chocolate buttons - Nick reaches for the same. They make eye contact as they open the bags.

Charlie takes his first bite slowly, as usual. Nick pops two buttons in his mouth at the same time, and swallows before he starts talking.

"I've got all my holiday homework done for Monday, by the way. So if you want to do something tomorrow, I'm free. Not that I'd ever choose homework over you, but…"

"You should." Charlie smiles, eating another button. "Homework's important, especially in first year. Your AS grades are what get you into uni."

This kind of conversation is commonplace. Distracting, personal enough to engage Charlie but not enough to stress him out. Taking him out of the moment, the focus away from food, is the most sure fire way Nick has found of guaranteeing Charlie finishes a meal (or at least gets close).

He can practically hear the gears turning in Charlie's head. 

There's stuff about the eating disorder that Nick knows more than anybody else (except possibly the doctors, but he can never be truly sure what goes down in those appointments). While generally Charlie's behaviours come from a need for control, there's more to it than that. Calories also come into play. The Springs think it's all about the act of eating rather than the food itself, which is mostly true, but Charlie has confided (in hushed whispers whilst curled up together in too-small beds) that he also counts the values of everything he consumes, tying a numeric value to things, letting him quantify what he feels he deserves. It's still all about control, but it's hard to miss that the exact same meal can go down countless different ways depending on Charlie's mood.

On a good day, when things are going well and he feels he's in charge, Charlie can eat a totally normal amount with relative ease. If stuff is going wrong, if everything feels fucked up and difficult and Charlie can't help but blame himself, even a slice of toast is a challenge. The numbers mean something to him that Nick has never understood, fears he never will. Even so, he's noticed himself catching on to specific numbers - he knows the values of Charlie's safe foods by heart, finds himself thinking  _ 58, 76, 117  _ when he catches sight of Charlie eating something. Sometimes he's angry at himself for knowing that stuff, for retaining information that  _ should  _ be meaningless. He's never voiced this to Charlie, of course.

"I've actually been looking at unis. For me, I mean."

"Oh?"

"I know I'm only in year 11," Charlie blushes, "but it never hurts to get ahead. I think if I have something to work towards it might make sixth form easier."

Nick grins, then blushes when he realises that there's chocolate coating his teeth. Charlie laughs, that precious twinkly giggle that sends Nick's heart fluttering away into outer space.

"It does help, I think. I know a few people in my year already have plans. I'm focusing on now, for now."

Charlie smiles. "That's good. I like now."

"I like now too."

Nick is beaming, and his smile only gets brighter when he realises Charlie has finished the chocolate buttons. For once, he's actually  _ behind  _ his boyfriend.

"Everybody's always talking about sixth form at the minute. I don't really see why. I mean, we're either staying on at Truham or switching to Higgs. I don't see why it's such a big deal." Charlie has started on a sandwich, seemingly unfazed, engrossed in his own conversation. Nick's heart swells with a little bit of pride. "Uni's the big one. I don't know if Tori wants to bother, really, but I know some of my friends are thinking about it. Aled's going Russell Group, I'm sure. But his sister - you don't know her, I barely do - hates school, so she's probably in the same boat as Tori. They don't know each other though, I've asked."

Charlie doesn't usually ramble this much, and it dawns on Nick that he may not be the only one that uses conversation to ease mealtimes. Charlie seems to have picked up on that particular strategy, and it's  _ working.  _ He's nowhere near as slow as usual, and there doesn't seem to be the same cloud of unease that usually rests heavy on his shoulders when he has a plate in front of him.

"Which Russell Group?"

"I'm not sure. He doesn't like talking about it, but he's smart. Smarter than me."

"You're really smart!"

"I know." He says matter-of-factly, an almost cheeky look on his face. "Aled's still smarter."

"What about Tao?"

"Same as me, I think. Looking around, but only casually. Neither of us is really set on a course yet, which makes it hard to pick a place."

Nick nods. "Yeah, I get that. I like a lot of things, I'm not sure what I like enough to dedicate 30 grand to."

"You'll figure it out."

They're both halfway done with their sandwiches now. Charlie's pale blue eyes are locked with Nick's, like he's making a concerted effort not to look down at what he's eating, like he's getting through this by simply ignoring that it's happening.

"If you don't hurry up with that sandwich, I think Nellie'll have the bacon straight out your hand. Look at her."

Sure enough, the dog is making eyes at Nick's sandwich. It's comical, how ready she seems to pounce - well trained enough to not steal food, but carnivorous enough that she really,  _ really  _ wants to. Nick chuckles.

"She deserves a medal for not losing her cool yet."

"I think she'd prefer a snack." Charlie grins. "Shall we chuck her something?"

"Do we want to risk opening the floodgates? One treat and she'll have the picnic."

Charlie rises gracefully to his feet, his (Nick's) massively oversized hoodie unfurling to fall down past his knees. He runs a sweater-pawed hand through his fringe with a soft smile.

"Give me a minute."

He pads down the stairs, and Nick finds himself watching the door frame. This is going… surprisingly well.

Surprising is the wrong word - he knows dates like this are entirely possible, and he knows that so-called "normal" eating is doable enough for Charlie under the right circumstances. And, given the chance to prepare for this picnic, Nick could have expected that Charlie would be comfortable. Really though, he's no longer used to 'comfortable' being so easy. Even on his best days Charlie struggles - eats slowly, cautiously, moves like every breath holds a count in his head. It's been so long since he could eat a sandwich without a second thought that Nick has almost forgotten it was ever possible. Tonight feels almost like NickAndCharlie pre-hospital.

He kind of hates himself for thinking like that, for thinking in  _ pre-  _ and  _ post-  _ as if it means something, as if Charlie is different.

He isn't different. Nick isn't different either. All that's changed is how they see each other, read each other, support each other. A day where Charlie can mindlessly have a Tesco meal deal is really no different to a day where he can barely stomach a mouthful of lasagne, not in any way that means anything. It doesn't matter to Nick that eating together now lasts hours instead of minutes, or that Charlie always looks a little green after. What matters to him is how he feels, and that has never changed. That  _ will  _ never change. He hates to think of things as pre-hospital or post-hospital because he feels like he's romanticising a time that really isn't too different. He doesn't  _ want  _ to romanticise that, or anything, because to do that makes it seem like he'd rather be then, which isn't true.

He wants to be now, always does. Living in the now is the best thing, because  _ now  _ has Charlie just as much as  _ then  _ did. 

Before he can think too hard, Charlie has re-emerged, Nellie's bowl in one hand and a chew toy in the other. 

"Nell!" She wags her tail so fast Nick can't even keep track of it. "I've got you some beef! It smells like feet and it's all for you!"

He places the bowl in front of her and she digs in before he can even let go. He erupts into giggles, once again sending Nick's heart into orbit. While the dog is distracted he trails back over to the picnic, flopping down into Nick's lap.

Whereas before they'd been sat cross legged and facing each other, they're now entwined. Almost instinctively, Nick snakes an arm around Charlie's waist. He's met with a grin.

"That should keep her busy for a few minutes. Do you want crisps or fruit?"

Nick glances down at the pile and realises that the two meal deal snacks are side-by-side, only one of each. Again, Nick's mind slips uninvited to the memory of calorie counts. Each of their Tesco orders is seared into the back of his brain against his will.

Usually, Charlie opts for the fruit. Double digits, against Nick's go-to salt and vinegar crisps, which are well into triple digits. On good days, they'll share. On very good days, Charlie will pick up crisps for each of them.

"Up to you."

"Nope, your choice."

"I'm easy."

"You're always easy."

"You planned this."

"Which is why it's your pick."

Nick weighs the options. He seriously is open to either, and he'd much rather let Charlie pick. In fact, if he were anybody else Nick would worry this was some kind of test. If he opts for the crisps, it's like he's enabling Charlie to go for the lower calorie option. But if he chooses the fruit, it forces him to the higher calorie one, which could be a push too far. He doesn't want to enable  _ or  _ push, and this decision is stressing him out more than he wants it to.

"Can we split them?"

"Of course!" Charlie smiles. "Do you have a plate?"

There's one on his bedside table left from this afternoon, when he had a bagel before Charlie arrived. It's clean, save for a few crumbs, so he grabs it and tips out the crisps. They each reach for one at the same time, and their fingers touch. Nick's heart skips a beat.

"How do you still make me nervous?"

"Hmm?" Charlie mumbles, mouth full of food. His wide eyes look up to meet Nick's.

"Every time our hands touch it's like I'm crushing again. And I don't get  _ why _ , considering we hold hands all the time."

"It's because I'm adorable."

"Well I know  _ that.  _ I feel gayer every time I see you."

Charlie giggles again, twisting his body in Nick's arms to face him better. He quickly kisses Nick, and the strong tinge of vinegar on his lips isn't enough to stop Nick kissing back.

"If it helps, I get the same thing. Falling in love with you is like a 24/7 experience. I still kind of can't believe you actually like me."

"Believe it." Another chaste kiss. "Because the like is here to stay."

They work through the crisps and apples over the space of half an hour. Charlie is slowing down a little, but Nick is in no mood to rush him. Even if he finished eating now, with half a plate left, it would still be miles ahead of where he's been recently. Plus, stolen kisses between every mouthful make the time worth it.

"Thanks for letting me do this." Charlie mumbles quietly when the plate is finally, finally empty. "I know it probably seems stupid."

Nick sits up straighter, brow furrowed. "It's not stupid. At all, Char. It's like, the exact opposite of stupid."

"I know you probably have a shitty time eating with me."

"I  _ don't. _ "

Before he can continue speaking, he stands up straight and guides Charlie over to the bed, where they can cuddle more comfortably. They settle under the covers, arms and legs tangled, staring into one another's eyes.

"I never have a shitty time with you, doing  _ anything _ . I love every second with you."

"It shouldn't have to be this hard."

"It isn't hard, Char. I promise."

"This picnic took two weeks to plan, and it was literally just a meal deal and a packet of chocolate buttons."

"I like the planning, Charlie. I do. And I loved tonight. I like that you took the time to make sure this was okay for you. I would've loved it if you'd taken two minutes, or two weeks, or two  _ months _ . I love it because I'm with you."

"Do you not wish you were with somebody… somebody  _ easier _ ?"

"Being with you  _ is  _ easy."

He pulls Charlie even closer, to the point that not a single part of them is even a millimetre apart. Chests touching, foreheads pressed together, Nick hopes that the love he feels can translate in the warmth radiating off his body.

"Everything is easy because loving you is easy. You think it's difficult to be with you, because you find it difficult  _ being  _ you. But it's not like that for me. I'll take everything you throw at me because I love you. And I know - think, hope, whichever - that you love me. And that's what makes it worth it."

A tear slips from Charlie's eye, and Nick worries he's said the wrong thing. The worry dissipates the second Charlie smiles.

"I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you." Nellie barks across the room, and Charlie laughs through his tears. "And you, Nell."

"I love you."

"I love you."

"I love you."

"I love you."

They could say it on loop for hours, because it's true. It's the greatest truth in the universe. At times it feels like the only truth in the universe.

Nick Nelson loves Charlie Spring, and Charlie Spring loves Nick Nelson. They have loved each other for as long as either one cares to remember. They loved each other before they even met, in a way, as if the first 15 years of their lives had just been a waiting game for the moment they first laid eyes on each other. They love each other. And they'll continue to love each other, because it's just part of who they are.

Today was easy. Tomorrow could be easy too, or it could be impossible. Things could get harder once school starts up, or they could get easier. There's no way of knowing, not really. But when the days are like today, when they're the easiest thing in the world, they'll live through them. When they're hard, they'll live through those too.

Maybe Charlie worries he's difficult to love. Maybe Nick worries that he isn't loving him right. At the end of the day, none of that matters - they  _ do  _ love each other, they always will. Love is there, real and perpetual and unshakeable. Love makes the difference.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope this was ok? i'm hoping to write more osemanverse stories that don't centre around angst, but this was something i wanted/needed to get out
> 
> ps, feel free to follow me on tumblr @charliespringverse (it's a new blog pls be gentle)


End file.
